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Chapters (43)
  1. Title Page
  2. Copyright Notice
  3. Dedication
  4. Contents
  5. Chapter 1
  6. Chapter 2
  7. Chapter 3
  8. Chapter 4
  9. Chapter 5
  10. Chapter 6
  11. Chapter 7
  12. Chapter 8
  13. Chapter 9
  14. Chapter 10
  15. Chapter 11
  16. Chapter 12
  17. Chapter 13
  18. Chapter 14
  19. Chapter 15
  20. Chapter 16
  21. Chapter 17
  22. Chapter 18
  23. Chapter 19
  24. Chapter 20
  25. Chapter 21
  26. Chapter 22
  27. Chapter 23
  28. Chapter 24
  29. Chapter 25
  30. Chapter 26
  31. Chapter 27
  32. Chapter 28
  33. Chapter 29
  34. Chapter 30
  35. Chapter 31
  36. Chapter 32
  37. Chapter 33
  38. Chapter 34
  39. Chapter 35
  40. Postscript
  41. Also by Rhys Bowen
  42. About the Author
  43. Copyright

“He sent a postcard to one of them two days before he died.”

“And this postcard had some kind of warning written on it? Something that made you uneasy?”

I considered this. “Well, no. Not exactly.”

He took my hand and patted it. “Then I think you have no cause for concern, chère madame. There were no extra bodies found. No signs of a struggle elsewhere in the apartment. And American ladies are known for flitting across the Continent on a whim. They’ll turn up again, I’m quite sure.”

“Thank you.”

The inspector opened the front door for me. “I wish you a pleasant stay in Paris, madame. However, if you can think of anything to do with Bryce’s family in America that might have a bearing on this case, you can always leave a message for me at the Sûreté.”

The policeman at the door nodded to me as I passed him and walked down the steps, out to the street. I gave a sigh of relief. Sid and Gus’s disappearance seemed to have nothing to do with the death of Reynold Bryce. Perhaps they had already returned home and be waiting for me. I hurried to the nearest Métro station.

Chapter 16

Sixteen

When I reached the bakery I found Liam had already been fed and was sleeping peacefully. I apologized but Madeleine laughed. “I am here at home with one baby, madame. What difference does another one make? And your son, he is delightful. He has so much joie de vivre.”

“Yes,” I said. “He is a lot like his father.” And a great longing for Daniel came over me. When could I hope for a letter? Was he still safe? I wanted nothing more than to feel his arms around me.

When I entered the front hallway of Sid and Gus’s building the concierge popped out like a spider springing from its lair on passing prey. “So you’re still here. And no, your friends have not returned. Me, I think they have found a place they like better. In a more chic neightborhood.”

“But they were expecting me here,” I said. “And why would they leave their possessions behind?”

“Americans have money. They buy new possessions and toss out the old,” she said. “Or they plan to collect their things before the end of the month.”